


Headline

by Basingstoke



Series: Clunkie [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:19:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4424705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Peter works hard, Tony is jealous, Thor is shirtless, Clint and Natasha scuffle, and Steve is denied bacon. Set immediately post the first Avengers movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Avengers.

**Author's Note:**

> As a reminder, this series started prior to Andrew Garfield and Tom Holland. This is Tobey Maguire Spidey and RDJ Iron Man. It is, however, Charlie Cox Daredevil and Vondie Curtis-Hall Urich because that series was greatness.

Peter woke up on a strange balcony sacked out in a deck chair. There was a blanket spread over him and a bagel on top of a cup of coffee beside him. 

Huh. Cool.

He ate the bagel, drank the cold coffee, and wrote "Thanks" on the paper napkin it was resting on. After a moment’s thought, he signed it "Spider-Man" and pinned it under the cup. Nobody seemed to be home. 

The city was wrecked. Peter leaned his elbows on the balcony and his chin on his hands and he didn't even know where to start, seriously. Every window in the Chrysler Building was smashed. There was a giant metal whale-i-pede right through the New York Stock Exchange floor. He needed to...something. Get some pictures. 

His stomach rumbled. The bagel hadn't even made a dent. Peter looked up to gauge where the heck he was, anyway, and realized, oh, two blocks from Stark Tower. He could see the smashed-up top of it with the lone "A" still lit up. 

He fished out his phone and called Tony to see if he was around. To his surprise, Tony answered on the first ring. "Peaches!" 

"Hey, are you okay?" Peter asked. 

"Fabulous. How about you?" 

"I spent the day pulling buildings off people. I hurt." 

"Come over. I'll kiss it better." 

"Where are you?" 

"Stark Tower. Mind the roof." 

"Okay." Peter smooched at the phone, which made Tony laugh as he hung up. God, he ached all over. He anchored a web to the balcony and lowered himself down slowly. 

Then he walked. Actually, limped. His hip kept seizing up. Ow. 

The streets were deserted. Evacuated pending building stability checks, that was the order. It was incredibly weird. A jeep cruised through, paused, and stopped. "Give you a lift, Spidey?" a National Guardswoman asked. 

"Uh, Stark Tower?"

"Hop in." She reached down and gave him a hand. 

"Oof. Thanks." 

The jeep started up. "I thought you were invulnerable or something," the woman said.

"An alien shot me in the butt. I need to see my chiropractor." 

She laughed. She had scrapes across her cheek below a swollen half-closed eye. Her hair was frizzing up out of her tight braids. "I shot a few of them. Not so tough when you get them off the scooters." 

Peter held up his fist for a bump and she obliged. 

He slid off the jeep at Stark Tower. The doors were still working. "Morning, Jarvis," Peter said. 

"Good morning, sir. Mr. Stark is on the fourteenth floor."

"Penthouse smashed?" 

"The damage is regrettable." 

"Take me up, thanks. And can I get some food?" 

"Certainly," Jarvis said. He whisked Peter up to fourteen. 

When the doors opened, Peter was face to chest with a buff dude wearing nothing but sweat pants and a hammer. He looked up until he saw beard. 

"What manner of creature are you? If you be foe, know that my name is Thor Odinsson, and I will be your doom!" He put his fists on his hips. Very heroic.

"Spider-Man is a friend of Mr. Stark," Jarvis said. "Please join Mr. Stark in the Greek room for breakfast, Spider-Man." 

A blond guy popped into the hall. "Breakfast?" He was followed by a red-headed woman and a dude with extra helpings of biceps. Red opened the Greek door and then shut it immediately. "Put your pants on!" she yelled. 

"I was expecting someone else!" Tony yelled back.

"Is Spider-Man a name or a title, friend? I apologize, but I am new to this land and unfamiliar with your ways," Thor said. 

"It's his code name," Red said. She kicked the door. "Pants!" 

"Thor's eyeing your boyfriend!" Biceps called out. The door flew open and he flattened himself against the wall. 

Tony burst out with his robe barely clutched around him. "Hey! Hey! No poaching my honey! Hands off!" He backed up Thor with a finger in his chest. Red and Biceps disappeared into Tony's room. A dark-haired guy sidled into the end of the hall. 

"We are taking this outside," Tony said, backing Thor right up against the elevator. 

"I meant no offense--"

"You gave no offense," Peter said. 

"He is mine. Mine! I'm going to marry that fine ass some day," Tony said. 

"Whoa," Peter cut in. 

"Marry!" Tony shouted, pointing at Peter. "And give you a building!" 

Peter threw his hands up. "I came here for breakfast!" And he stalked into Tony's room. 

The other two were laying into Tony's breakfast spread like they haven't eaten in a week. "So who are you?" Peter asked. He folded his mask up over his mouth and took some sliced steak. 

"Natasha and Clint," Red said around a mouthful of egg. "We're with SHIELD."

Clint picked up an entire plateful of bacon and Peter webbed half of it back out again. "No spooge at breakfast!" Clint said. 

"I was supposed to be eating this off Tony's naked chest," Peter said. Clint shuddered. Peter took his bacon and some bagels and sat down. 

The food was set out on a low table surrounded by couches. Clint and Natasha shared one and Peter stretched out on another, his shoulders against the arm. Was it possible to sprain your pelvis? He felt like he had sprained his pelvis. He wiggled his knee experimentally. 

"You look like you were in it yesterday," Clint said. 

"Yeah. Suddenly aliens. I guess you guys helped Tony take care of it?" 

Natasha choked. "No. Don't put it like that." 

"What?" 

"Tony is not the leader," Clint said. 

"No," Natasha said. 

The door slammed open, bouncing off the wall, and Tony marched Thor into the room. "I humbly beg your pardon," Thor said to Peter. 

"You didn't do anything," Peter said. 

"He was eyefucking you," Tony said. "And standing too close. And looming while shirtless. Did he ask you to touch his hammer?" He glared at Thor. 

"Did you hit your head?" Peter asked. 

"I flew a nuke into the bad guys. I just want that out there. I flew a nuke into an alien spaceship and come back and you are poaching my honey," Tony grumbled. He slumped onto the couch and spread himself on top of Peter, tucking his face into Peter's jaw and wrapping both legs and arms around him. He huffed into Peter’s neck.

"Have some coffee," Peter said. He rested his plate on Tony's shoulder. 

Blond and Dark knocked and came in. "Is this a team breakfast?" Blond asked. 

"It was meant to be a romantic meal for two, but come in, sure, we'll make it an orgy. Thor, get on the pole," Tony said.

"I'm gonna web your mouth shut," Peter said. 

"How does one employ a pole in an orgy?" Thor asked. 

"How doesn't one?" Natasha said. 

"Hi. I'm Steve. It's nice to meet you," Blond said. He crossed over to shake hands with Peter. 

"The amazing Spider-Man, likewise," Peter said. 

"He's Captain America. Don't ogle him," Tony said into Peter's chest.

"Oh, like the guy from World War II?" 

"Exactly like the guy from World War II," Steve said. 

"You look good for your age," Peter said.

"People say that," Steve said. 

"I said that," Tony said. 

Peter met Tony's eyes. "Wait, did we mind meld?" 

"I like it," Tony said. He kissed Peter quick. 

"Is Tony contagious?" Dark mused. "I'm rethinking that job offer." Tony rolled his eyes. 

"That's Bruce. He turns into a giant rage monster and doesn't have room to make judgments about my life," Tony said. 

Bruce snorted. "Who made breakfast, anyway?" 

"Jarvis and my robot army."

"That's so cool," Peter said without thinking. 

"Thank you, sugarplum. Do you want a robot army? I'll make you one. Say the word. Jarvis, make him a minion." 

"No! Where would I put it? My room isn't even big enough for a full size bed. I have to close the closet door to use the sink and wow, you have never lived in a New York apartment, have you," Peter said as Tony's arms tightened around him and his eyes went wide as saucers. 

"That's inhuman," Tony said. 

"Not everyone needs a two-story walk in closet," Peter said. 

"Winter and summer, that is practical."

"I lived in Manhattan when I went to Empire State," Bruce said. "I had the top half of the room and my roommate had the bottom." He gestured, two levels. "Loft bed. And a, uh, the top of the wardrobe. I spent a lot of time in the library. You have a whole room, nice." 

"It is nice. I work two jobs," Peter said. 

"I had to share the bed with my roommate before the war. Is there any bacon?" Steve asked. 

"No," Clint said. 

"Sorry," Peter said. 

Steve looked sad. "Manhattan never was easy," he said. He took a bagel. Clint and Natasha both put their hand on a blueberry muffin and stared at each other, narrow-eyed. 

Peter finished his steak and wanted some fruit, but his hip protested when he tried to lift Tony along with his own weight. "Tony, come on, I want an orange." 

"I'm snuggling with my boo," Tony said into Peter's neck. 

Natasha reached out and threw an orange at Peter without taking her eyes off Clint. Their fingers twitched on the muffin. "Thanks," Peter said. 

"Sure," Natasha said. She and Clint both moved, a flurry of slap-karate. They flipped the couch and kept scuffling. 

Bruce spread some cream cheese and lox on a bagel. "Try this," he told Thor. "It'll change your life."

"Thank you, friend, but I am pleased in the main with my lot," Thor said. Natasha rose from the floor with the muffin stuffed in her mouth, dusting off her hands. 

Peter fed Tony a slice of orange. 

"I read about you in the papers," Steve said. "The Bugle has it out for you. You should stop posing for their photographer." 

"Oh, well," Peter said. "Honestly, JJ is doing me a favor. He's such a jerk that the other papers are nice, and the Bugle is kind of a rag, so. Um. So this is the secret thing you've been doing?" 

Clint poked his head over the edge of the fallen couch. "This is the secret thing that we have been doing and Tony was invited to join," he said. 

Tony pointed vaguely in his direction. "I was in this from day one."

"I'm a little surprised Spider-Man wasn't in already," Steve said. He looked at Clint. 

"He was evaluated," Natasha said. 

"I don't want in. But you could have called me. It's my city." 

Tony looked up. "Baby, I had thirty-six hours from finding out about Loki to kicking his ass. I haven't even been to the bathroom yet. Don't be jelly." He leaned up and kissed Peter. 

Peter kissed him, let it go. He wasn't jealous, he was worried. "You should really go to the bathroom, then." 

"I'm good. I whizzed in the suit." 

"Pig." Peter kissed him again. Tony shifted his weight over Peter’s hips and Peter hissed in pain. 

"You all right?" Bruce asked. 

"An alien shot me in the tuchus. I'm fine," Peter said. "I heal fast."

Steve frowned. "Those guns pack a wallop. I'm still bruised up. You should really see a doctor," he said. 

"You got shot? My poor little chicken pie," Tony said. And then hands, hands down his pants.

"Hey!" Peter squirmed, but Steve grabbed him, there was an undignified moment, and he ended up face down on the couch while the rest of the team openly stared at his butt. 

"Jesus! Medics," Tony said. 

"I'm fine." 

"Medics," Tony repeated. "You're...orange. You should not be that color." He let the suit snap back and pulled out his phone. 

Peter sighed. "Can I at least have some coffee?" 

*

Peter was in his mask and a hospital gown open down the back, face down on a table being scanned by tricorders (he swore. Tricorders).

"Tell me, Doc," he said. "Will I ever sit again?" 

"Do you have accelerated healing?" Dr. Ram asked. 

"Yeah. I got over a broken arm in a day." 

"Should be fine. I'm just a little concerned about bone degradation due to the nature of the energy weapon..."

"Not good." 

"Really not. We'll just toss you in the MRI, ok?" 

Peter gave her the thumbs up. 

"Are you a mutant?"

"No, but some of my best friends are," Peter said. 

"How did you acquire your powers?" 

"Bitten by a spider. The spider might have been a mutant."

"Spider might have been a mutant," she repeated as she wrote it down. 

An orderly pushed his bed out of the room. There were a lot of other people in the ward. Cops, Peter realized, recognizing some faces.

"Spidey!" one guy said. "Where were you?" 

"I couldn't get a cab!" Peter called as he was wheeled past. 

"He was at Grand Central holding up the roof. I saw ya, buddy. He saved lives just like the rest of us! Let's go, Spider-Man!" The man applauded. Others joined in. 

It felt weird being applauded for just doing his thing. "Let's go, New York! We can bounce back from any damn thing!" Peter yelled, and everyone clapped harder, and it was okay. 

*

Peter called Mary Jane from Tony's bed, mask off, dressed in Tony's silk robe. He was okay, the doctors said, just had the most spectacular bruise in medical history. Tony had promised to check it hourly, but he was unconscious on the couch with his hand still curled around a mug of coffee. 

MJ picked up after one ring. "Peter! Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, are you okay?" 

"I'm in Philadelphia. They put us on Amtrak to evacuate and it just kept going until it was safe to stop. We're parked on the tracks, but it's not so bad."

"I'm glad. I'm safe too. I have no idea about my apartment." 

"Oh my god, I'm not even thinking about it." 

"So," Peter said, because he was bursting. "You know the guy I'm seeing?" He didn't want to say his name on a cell. It felt like crossing the streams or something. 

"Yes?" 

"He said he wants to marry me." 

"WHAT?" 

"But I don't know if he means it." 

"How does a guy propose without meaning it?" 

"Another guy was looking at me and Tony got jealous," Peter said. 

"And he said back off, that's my fiance?" 

"Pretty much."

"Oh my god, Peter," MJ said, laughing. 

"I know." 

"I have no idea."

"I don't even know." 

"Do you want him to mean it?" MJ asked. 

Peter inhaled; exhaled. 

"Oh wow. Don't marry him." 

"I don't even think we're exclusive," Peter said. "He's; you know how he is. I never asked him to be exclusive."

"Yeah. Don't marry him, Peter. I'm glad I didn't marry John. I was--he was how he was, and he was amazing, he is totally amazing, but we should never be married, and I'm so sorry I ever said yes."

He was so glad he had MJ back. He was so glad he had someone to tell about this. "Tony is amazing." 

"So are you," MJ said. 

"I guess? I have a lot of parts of my life and he has a lot of parts of his life and a couple of parts fit together, but--oh my God, Aunt May would have a heart attack."

"No, she'd be fine. She would walk you down the aisle." 

"I'm not the bride!" Peter thought for a second, though. "Okay, she would want to walk me down the aisle. I would let her." 

"He has a lot of money. You could have anything you want. Without marrying him." 

"I don't really want things, though."

"You want a new camera."

"Okay, I want a new camera and laptop and I want an apartment that doesn't smell like sauerkraut, but--stuff, you know, I don't really want stuff. I want to help people. I want New York not to be smashed. It's such a mess here right now." 

"It's not all on you," MJ said. 

"A little bit of it is." 

Neither of them spoke for a moment. 

"Tell me if my apartment is okay as soon as you can. I am not even thinking about it."

"Me neither. Bye."

Peter put the phone on his pillow. Damn, he loved MJ, but it was so much easier to talk to her when he wasn't trying to date her. 

Tony shook awake and fell off the couch. "Jarvis, time." 

"Two-thirteen PM. Director Fury has called twenty-seven times. Ms. Potts is attempting to return to Stark Tower, but was required to land in Pittsburgh International Airport due to airspace closure over New York State. She is driving back and will return at approximately eight PM."

"Tell her she's a slacker." 

"Yes, sir," Jarvis said. 

"Don't be a dick," Peter called out. 

"Hm. Jarvis, don't tell her she's a slacker. Tell her she's a champ." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Are you my conscience, Jiminy Cricket?" Tony asked. He pushed himself up off the couch and weaved over to the bed, where he collapsed beside Peter. "How's your luscious booty?" 

"Bruised. Kind of blue now, I think, which is better."

Tony unwrapped his robe to look. "Oh yeah. Much better. Looking good," he said, and punctuated it with a bite. 

"Hey! I'm wounded!" 

Tony nibbled up Peter's butt to his lower back. His beard felt like a procession of sexy ants. "Hrrmmbble," Tony said into the curve of Peter's spine. "Nyarm."

Peter grinned into the pillow. "So you saved the world yesterday?" 

"Yep. Flew a nuke into the alien mothership."

"Were you sweaty?" Peter turned onto his back, grinning wider. 

"So sweaty." Tony planted his arms on either side of Peter's stomach.

Peter wrapped his legs around Tony's waist. Hey, naked. "Were you heroic?" 

"I nearly died," Tony said.

"That is heroic." Peter wrapped his arms around Tony's shoulders and lifted himself up. Tony was stronger than he looked, easily strong enough to hold them both. 

"Oh, hey. I have something sexy to tell you," Tony said. He rubbed his beard over Peter's cheek. 

"Listening."

"Thor zapped me with his lightning." 

"Was it intelligent lightning?" Which was how they met, all that time ago, when Electro nailed Tony with his intelligent electricity. 

"Pretty dumb lightning." Tony licked his chin. "That isn't the sexy part." 

"Go on." Peter stroked his back with sticky fingers, making Tony wriggle when he pulled at his skin. 

"The suit contained the electricity." 

"Ooh," Peter said. That was pretty amazing. 

"Four hundred percent capacity. And I shot it right back at him." 

"Oh. Oh, man. Oh, _man_ ," Peter groaned. He was hard as diamonds. He rolled his hips against Tony's. Tony collapsed down into the bed with him. 

"Fzow fzow, right back in his hippie face," Tony muttered. He pushed them together cock to cock, skin against skin, finally kissing him hard. 

Sex with MJ had been sweet. Sex with Tony was dirty. Tony didn’t care where he put his mouth or his hands, didn’t care how he looked, wanted come all over the place. 

He shouldn’t compare. He couldn’t stop. MJ was soft and smelled really good; Tony was bristly and smelled really good. Peter guessed that meant his type was good-smelling people, so that was okay. He pressed his nose to Tony's neck and inhaled. 

"Your abs are epic," Tony said, and then he came, and Peter followed him, pulsing bright and hot between them. 

Tony sucked on his collarbone and fell immediately asleep. "We're going to stick together," Peter said, but Tony was out, and he was the one with the body hair, so whatever; and Peter fell asleep too. 

*


	2. Non-Penetrative Nookie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there are going to be more than two chapters. But here's an update.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Jarvis! Remind me to get waxed. Dammit!" 

Peter stirred and hugged Tony. "Hey," Peter said. 

"Steve! Get the thing. The plastic thing. Right there." 

"What?" And when Peter looked over, there was Steve in the room, and Peter could just die. He flung the sheet over his and Tony's head. 

"Hey!" Tony flailed at the sheet and his stomach hair ripped away from Peter's skin. 

"That's Captain America!" Peter whisper-shouted.

"--can't breathe under here--" 

"There was a picture of him on the wall next to the cross!" 

Tony stopped flailing. "Well, that's just sacrilegious." 

"Tell that to my uncle!" 

"I can hear you," Steve said. He lifted the sheet and his eyebrows. "You could use a rubber, you know." 

Captain America was lecturing him about safe sex. Peter pressed his hands over his ears. 

"Yeah, well, the fun of non-penetrative sex is going condom-free, okay? My honey has abs of steel, the last thing I want to do is not feel them," Tony said as he separated them with hand lotion and Peter actually died for a second. When he returned to life, Tony was sitting naked on the bed and Captain America was telling him they had to go now before Fury arrived with the rest of SHIELD. 

"Okay. Got to run an errand, back in half an hour," Tony said. He leaned over and kissed Peter on the hair. 

"It was nice to meet you, Spider-Man. I've read a lot about you, but I don't think much of it was true," Steve said. 

"Gah," Peter said under the sheet. 

*

Peter sat on the edge of the broken balcony and looked at the city. Central Park was littered with fallen alien soldiers that had been chasing the evacuating office workers. Grand Central Station was trashed. Park Ave was a mess. It made him depressed to look at it.

He was still mooching around in his mask and Tony's robe and slippers. He should get dressed and go look at his apartment and see if it survived. Probably it was fine. If it wasn't, he could stay with Tony for a while. 

Or marry him. Jesus. 

"Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are returning," Jarvis said. 

"Who's Dr Banner?" 

"Dr. Bruce Banner."

"Oh. Thanks." Peter slid around and put his back to the balcony wall, but didn't get up. 

"I will inform Mr. Stark of your location." 

"Okay." He couldn't stop looking at the city. His home. His responsibility. 

Tony came up a while later, Bruce still with him. Bruce scuffed a foot over a big dent in the floor as Tony sauntered over to Peter. "They all abandoned me except Bruce," Tony said. "How's your booty, boo?" 

"Pretty much healed. It doesn't hurt." 

"Well, this place is trashed." Tony looked around. "I'll have to buy new stuff. Want to help me shop?" 

"Only if it's at Goodwill. I get nervous in fancy places. I keep thinking I'm going to trip." 

"Then I'd pay for it. Come on, I like spending money," Tony said. He gave Peter his hand. 

Peter let Tony pull him up into his arms. "I'm not going to marry you!" Peter broke out. 

Tony let go. He looked stony, which meant hurt. Crap. Crap. 

"It would be public. Iron Husband. I could never just be a regular guy, and I like that. But I totally want to be your secret boyfriend, because I like you. Um, a lot." He was blushing. Dammit. "I just can't be a public figure. I'm bad at it. My therapist said I have issues with exposure and look at me, I'm still wearing a mask and the whole city is evacuated." Peter tugged the mask off and looked at Tony. 

They were the same height. Tony seemed like he should be taller, but he wasn't. When Peter embraced him, they ended up exactly nose to nose. 

"So, yeah," Peter said. 

"Therapist, huh. You are a New Yorker," Tony said. 

"It was a long time ago, but she wasn't wrong."

"Did it help? Maybe I should go back. Work out my issues from everyone trying to kill me." 

"It helped." 

Tony sighed. "Fine. Don't marry me. But move in. I'll tell people you're the new Pepper. What do you do for a living? Are you still a paparazzo?" 

"Yeah. Jonah keeps trying to fire me, but I'm the only one that can get candids of Spider-Man, so it never takes."

"Huh." Tony turned. "Bruce! Hulk out. Peter needs a money shot."

Bruce, across the room, knotted his brow. "I'm pretty sure I heard that wrong." 

"I don't have my camera here..wait, did you just tell him to turn into a rage monster?" Peter asked. 

"Sure, why not? The place is already wrecked. Wait for the camera, Bruce!" Tony called. 

"Please tell me you're not discussing porn," Bruce said. 

Peter rolled his eyes. "We're not discussing porn. I'm a news photographer. Tony thinks I'm a paparazzo." 

"You are a paparazzo," Tony said. 

"I'm a photojournalist!"

"Mm-hm. How much did you make off that armor shot of me?" 

"I'm about to get my physics degree! I'm not a blogger for E Online!" 

"Pap," Tony said, poking Peter's belly. 

Bruce lifted his chin slightly, drawing their attention. “Physics degree?" 

"Well, it took six years, but I'm graduating this semester from NYU, if it didn't get squashed by aliens." 

"Why so long?" Bruce asked. 

"Spider-Man," Peter said plainly. 

"What are your plans going forward?" 

"I want a PhD. Dr. Connors said there's a program starting for applied high-energy physics, working on the arc reactor and stuff like that. He said he would write me a recommendation letter but I had to focus." Peter made a face. "He says I'm brilliant but lazy. I'm not lazy, I just--it's hard to explain why I keep missing due dates."

"Dr. Connors? Is that Curt Connors?" 

Peter nodded. "My advisor." 

"I need a lab assistant," Bruce said. "Tony, fund me a lab assistant, half time, with a scholarship so he can work toward his PhD."

"Done," Tony said.

"You don't have to--" He didn't want to earn this because he was Tony's boyfriend. "No, I don't want charity--" 

"If Curt Connors says you're brilliant, then you're brilliant. He said I had an exceptional grasp of theory but lacked patience. He was right." Bruce gestured. "Come over here and look." 

Peter realized he'd just had a job interview in a borrowed bathrobe, and that was his life. He joined Bruce by the big dent in the floor.

"I made that hole with Thor's brother's face," Bruce said, pointing. 

It was a very big dent. "Was he the douche who opened the portal?" 

"That's the douche."

"Wow. Nice one." 

Bruce looked him in the eye. "I need your informed consent. Loki lived through that. A human wouldn't. I think you would have a better chance against the other guy than your average lab assistant, but there is a chance I could kill you."

Peter stuck his hands in the robe pockets and looked at the dent for a minute or so. Now that he looked, he could spot the face-print. "Norman Osborne went after my aunt," he said finally. "Dr. Octavius attacked my girlfriend. If you're just trying to kill _me_ , I can take care of myself."

"The other guy is more of a smasher than a thinker." 

"I'm excellent at ducking. Thinking of going pro." 

Bruce smiled slowly. "Okay then." He offered his hand. 

Peter shook it. "Can I wear a lab coat? With my name on it?" 

"I guess, if you want?"

"Awesome." He grinned. 

"Nerd," Tony said. 

"You love it," Peter said. 

"That's not Dr. Octavius the physicist, is it?" Bruce asked. "And Norman Osborne, Oscorp?" 

"It's been a weird few years for science," Peter said. 

"Let's keep that up. Let's get mad," Tony said, rubbing his hands, and Peter snorted.


	3. Husband Material.

Peter checked on his apartment. It was fine. MJ's too. The damage was contained to downtown.

He called his aunt and told her he was fine. "Oh Peter! I was so worried. It was like watching the towers fall again," she said. 

"I know. I think the Bugle building might have been damaged, but I'm fine and MJ is fine. She's in Philadelphia!" And he managed to keep the conversation going without worrying her. 

Then he called MJ from the top of her building. "Your apartment is okay," he said. 

"Oh thank god. My shoe collection." 

"Mine is okay too. But that just means two pairs of cargo pants and my camera," he said. 

"How is Aunt May? She's in Queens, isn't she?" 

"Yeah, she's fine. And--I got a job."

"Peter, no way!" 

"Part time research assistant, with a scholarship so I can get my PhD. It's from Stark Industries." 

"No wedding?" 

"No," Peter said. "I don't really think I'm husband material."

"That's too bad. I was already planning what I would wear." 

"Well, I bet I could get you invited to a Stark party, and you can look as good as you want." 

"I would actually love that," MJ said. 

"Call me when you get back to town, okay?" 

"Oh, I'm calling you tomorrow." 

"Okay then."

*

Peter waited for a week or so before telling Aunt May about the new job and scholarship. She hugged him tight. "I knew you would do it," she said. "You worked so hard and you're so smart, I knew someone else would see it." 

Peter hugged back and didn't say anything. 

"Now tell me about the person who's making you smile," she said. 

"Oh--um, no, there's nobody," he said. 

"Peter. That phone is a present. It has XXX engraved on the back. Tell me."

"Oh." He looked away. He didn't know--he didn't want to disappoint her, or hurt her, or put her in danger. He was going to lose his damn mind if she looked sad. 

"It's all right if it's not a girl," Aunt May said gently. Peter flushed. "I would like to think you know I wouldn't stop loving you over a little thing like that." 

"I know," Peter said. His voice caught in his throat and came out tiny. He cleared his throat, but the lump only got bigger. "I just...I didn't, I don't know where to start." 

"What's he like?"

"Older. He's forty-two. I don't feel it, though. He has so much energy he tires me out." 

Aunt May nodded. 

"He's generous. He wants to give me the entire world. I felt like he was trying to buy me at first, but it's just the way he is. He wants everyone to have everything they ever wanted." 

"How wonderful," Aunt May said. 

"He's very handsome," Peter said, feeling his face heat. "He's short like me. He's part Italian, dark hair and dark eyes. He's going gray but he dyes it." 

"Hmm, that I'll have to speak to him about. Gray looks good on a man." 

"I think he would really like talking to you," Peter said. 

"So what's his name, dear?" 

"That's what's hard." Peter looked down at his hands. It was time. "His name is Tony. I met him...when I saved him from Electro. His suit was electrocuted and he was falling, so I caught him in strands of webbing and then helped him get back to his feet. I think--he was surprised that I didn't take advantage of him. Then I helped him get to the Baxter Building to repair the suit and he, he said I had a cute butt," Peter said. He rubbed his thumb over his fingertips. "He calls me all these nicknames. I don't think it's ever the same one twice. It's easy to forget that he's Iron Man." 

He took a deep breath, another, and finally looked up. 

"And you're Spider-Man," Aunt May said. She didn’t look sad. 

Peter nodded. 

"How? When?" 

"Senior year of high school. I was bitten--you remember when I was bitten by a spider, and I still have the scar?" He pulled his sleeve back. So many years later, the scar was just a pink knot. 

"Of course. How did that make you Spider-Man, dear?" 

"I don't know. It was radioactive or genetically engineered or something, I don't know, but I woke up with powers and then--and then Uncle Ben died and I had to do something. I had to--if I had done something--" Shit, he was losing it, his eyes stinging and his throat tightening up, but he had to continue, because it was so important-- "He told me with great power comes great responsibility and then he died because I wasn't responsible enough and didn't do anything--I was right there and I didn't help, I didn't know but I should have--" 

"Peter, Peter!" Aunt May opened her arms and pulled him in. "Unless you held that gun in your hand, you did not kill your uncle. I know you and I love you and I wouldn't believe that for a minute." 

"I could never tell you that you were right to hate Spider-Man because I could have saved him, I know--"

"Stop it! Stop that right now!" 

She pressed his head to her shoulder and he cried.

*

He graduated with a 3.47 GPA, which was pretty good considering. MJ and Aunt May both came to his graduation. 

So did Tony. He was going to meet Aunt May. Peter was freaking out. 

It was nice, though when Deadpool charged through Yankee Stadium with the X-Men on his heels. Peter, warned by his spider-sense, herded the dean and a bunch of professors out of the way while Tony called his suit from the car. 

"Whoa! Iron Man!" Deadpool said, turning in his heel on the catcher's mound. Wolverine charged the mound and stuck his claws through Deadpool's stomach. A bunch of people screamed, but Deadpool didn't seem to mind; he just shoved Wolverine's claws back out of his body and took a book out of a pouch on his thigh. "Can I get your autograph?" Deadpool asked. 

Tony landed. "Sure. As long as you put the swords down." 

"Nah, brah, they're attached." The swords retracted into Deadpool's arms. Wolverine tackled him from behind, grabbing his upper arms, and then just sort of stood there hugging him while Tony signed the book. "Make it to Wade, my biggest fan! Hell yeah!" 

"No problem. Now, I'll give this back when you surrender to the authorities," Tony said. 

"Lame," Deadpool said. He flipped forwards and threw Wolverine into Tony. Wolverine must have been more heavy than he looked, because he actually knocked Tony onto his back. Deadpool ducked Cyclops's eyebeam and picked up his autograph book in the same motion. "Hey, is my boy Spidey here?" Deadpool asked. "Spidey!" 

Storm hit him with a lightning bolt before Peter could even consider masking up. 

Tony pushed Wolverine off him. "I only let my boyfriend's ass that close to my face. Hey, don't internal weapons hurt?" 

Wolverine didn't answer. He picked up the stunned but twitching Deadpool by his wrist and dragged him off the field. "Good team-up!" Tony shouted after him. "Dick. Everyone okay?" 

"Iron Man!" someone yelled. The entire stadium erupted in cheers. At the edge of the field, Cyclops put his hands on his hips and scowled. Peter felt for him; mutants always got the short end of the stick. 

"Invite the X-Men to the party," he told Tony later, in the limo with Aunt May and MJ and Bruce. 

"Why?" 

"Because they saved our butts and nobody ever gives them any credit." 

Aunt May smiled at that. MJ, beside her, said, "I never heard of them." 

"Well, you shouldn't," Tony said. "They're an all-mutant team, very hush-hush. They saved the last president from being assassinated, so they get a lot of leeway, but Wolverine smells like wet dog, so that's gonna be a no." 

"Tony! That's rude," Aunt May said. 

"I'm inviting them," Peter said, and stole Tony's phone. 

"You'll regret it when he sheds on you," Tony said. 

*


	4. Green and Blue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parties and conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly any promises as to a posting schedule are futile, so I will simply say that I WILL finish this, some time in the future, barring my untimely death.

Some time after nightfall, MJ nudged Peter's shoulder and pointed at the couch, where Bruce was talking to a big, shaggy blue guy. "Blue and green," she said. 

"You can't set them up based on their skin color. That's racist," Peter said. MJ laughed and shoved him hard. "Ow! Did you let Tony mix you a drink?" 

"I did. It had gold flakes and it was really really good," MJ said. 

"You are so wasted. You should take off your shoes before you fall off." 

"I am fine! I can walk in heels! You can't walk in heels," MJ said. 

"I could totally walk in heels!" He had also let Tony mix him a drink. 

"I can walk in heels," Tony said. He swooped in and kissed Peter on the neck. "Where are you going?" 

"Petey thinks I can't walk just because I'm drunk, but I have girl powers, I can _run_. Look!" She took a lap around the room, whooping. She picked up Darcy and Dr. Foster halfway around the room, then Clint, then Iceman, until there was a swirl of laughing and dancing in the middle of the room. Cyclops, in the other corner, rubbed his head. Bruce was smiling next to the blue guy. 

Tony handed Peter a drink. "Your ex is invited any time," he said, and he jumped in, hands over his head, to dance pelvically with Darcy. 

Pelvically was a word, wasn't it? Peter sniffed Tony's drink. Mm, peat. 

Bruce waved his hand, beckoning Peter over. "This is Dr. Henry McCoy," he said. "He wrote--" 

"The effects of palladium alloy on spinal nerve conduction," Peter said. "Nanite transmission across the blood-brain barrier. Theories of epigenetic manipulation." 

"I see you're familiar with my work," Dr. McCoy said. 

"You're a genius, as in, in a room of genius, we are in a room of geniuses and you're the genius." His knees were weak. He thought he tasted pennies. 

Someone put a chair behind him and he sat. "Okay, don't let Stark see. Last time it didn't go well." Clint was standing beside him. Natasha appeared at his other side. 

"What?" 

"Stark isn't going to like you crushing on another guy's brain," Clint said. 

"Oh my god. Go away." Peter breathed, in, out, and felt the blood return to his head. He was kinda glad that Tony was still getting low with Darcy, though. 

Dr. McCoy was smiling. "I'm flattered. Any comparison to Stark is a welcome one. Bruce says you're assisting him with his gamma research." 

Peter nodded. "Bruce is doing basic research on gamma interaction with human organic compounds. I'm starting my doctorate in applied high-energy physics, but I might add organic chem."

"And study gamma mutants," Dr. McCoy said. "A high-priority field."

Peter nodded. He wondered if Dr. McCoy knew. 

"I'm a gamma mutant myself," he continued. He turned his dusty cobalt palm upward. "I was born a mutant, but not blue. I'll send you a sample of the suppressant I created, Bruce, though I suspect it will only work on a natural mutant." 

"A suppressant? It turns off the, ah, blue?" 

"And the fur. The shedding was indescribable." 

"That is a different mechanism, then," Bruce said. "I've never been able to work out why I shrink. You would think the extra muscle would drop off in chunks." 

"Aw, doc, that's gross," Clint said, making a face. He slid off sideways and started dancing with Dr. Foster.

"And of course if it converted to energy," Peter said. 

"We would have noticed," Dr. McCoy finished. He then worked out how much of the Earth would explode if one converted the mass of the Hulk into energy on his fingers, and Peter had to confess to Tony later, in bed, that he had a tremendous crush on Hank McCoy. 

"Threesome or hall pass?" Tony muttered into the pillow. 

"Neither? I just thought you should know." 

"'Kay."

"Do you want either of those?" Peter asked, but it was too late, because Tony's breath had evened out into sleep. 

*

When his lease expired, he packed his one bag and took it to work with him. He couldn't decide if his lack of stuff was pitiful or streamlined. Either way, he stowed it under the lab table for the day. 

After work, he headed up to Tony's penthouse with his bag. Natasha joined him in the elevator two floors up. 

"Moving in?" she asked. 

He didn't bother asking how she knew. She was psychic or whatever. "Don't tell him," he said. "I want to see how long it takes him to notice." 

"At least two months," she said. 

"I'm thinking six. He doesn't have a very regular schedule and I don't have much stuff."

"Mm. He'll probably work it out from the Spider-Man costume in his closet."

"Oh yeah. Jarvis, can you keep Tony from sending my costume to the dry-cleaners?" 

"All specialized equipment is cleaned by me, sir," Jarvis replied. 

"He orders my bullets, too," Natasha said. 

"You're the best, Jarvis," Peter said. 

"Thank you, sir." 

It took Tony three months. He blinked awake one Sunday afternoon and slid his head into Peter's lap. Peter switched from playing the Iron Man game on his phone to stroking Tony's hair. "You started sleeping over a lot more," Tony muttered into his thigh. 

"Yeah," Peter said. 

"I like it." 

"Good." 

Tony blinked. "Wait. Did you move in?" 

"Yes." 

"Without telling me?" 

"You've been asking me for years!"

"But you're supposed to say yes! Then there should be moving day makeouts! Move out and do it again." 

"No," Peter said. 

Tony growled. "You're lucky you're my cuddle bug." 

"Arachnid." 

"My squishy scorpion." 

Peter stroked his cheek above the beard.

"Where are your clothes?" Tony asked. 

"On your silk robe rack. There was space and it's on the ground floor." 

"Silk robe rack? I never wear silk robes." 

"You have sixteen silk robes." 

"What?" Tony levered himself out of bed and crossed to the closet entrance. Peter took a moment to admire his naked ass. "Yes. Sixteen. Jarvis, why do I have any silk robes?" 

"I could not say, sir," Jarvis answered. 

"These are your clothes? These are terrible, I'm buying you new ones," Tony said, emerging from the closet with all of Peter's shirts and pants. 

"They're fine. I'm used to them." 

"Oh, too late," Tony said, walking out onto the balcony. Before Peter could bounce out of bed, he'd thrown everything over the railing into the wind. 

"You jerk!" Peter leaned over, but his stuff was already out of web range. 

"Jerk? I was expecting at least 'asshole.'" 

Peter punched his shoulder. "That was all my stuff!" 

"Ow." 

"Now I don't have anything to wear!" 

"I will get you new clothes. I can do that today." 

"No! Not the point!"

"I want you to have nice things!" Tony yelled. 

"I want to earn nice things!" Peter yelled back. 

"You earned--" Peter held out the palm of his hand, though, holding off the "you earned this on your back" that he knew was coming, and Tony shut up.

"You asshole," Peter said. 

"You deserve better." 

"It's not about deserving! I'm going to work! Don't follow me!" 

He grabbed his lab coat and fumed over to the elevator. He put his lab coat on over his pajamas, because he was a goddamn mad scientist now, and that's how he was allowed to roll. 

"Morning," Bruce said. It was two PM. 

"Don't ask," Peter said. He put the coffee on. 

"I'm assuming Tony threw all your clothes out the window or something." 

"Yeah. Actually. He did." 

"Do you want to...complain about him for a while? I can do that." 

Peter looked into his coffee mug. "How do you take his stuff and feel okay about it?" 

"I don't have a choice," Bruce said easily. "I don't have anything else. Besides, it's a gift from me to him." 

Peter frowned. 

"I've been a lot of places. A lot of them...poor. But the thing is--most people are generous, no matter how poor they are, because giving creates a bond between people. It's an act of shared humanity. Tony is poorly socialized," Bruce said, looking over his glasses. "But he still has that." 

Peter sighed. "He's really aggressive about it."

"Well, yes. I'm dreading the day he finds out I need a new pair of glasses. I might end up with a heads-up display." 

"Jarvis can do that himself," Peter said. 

Bruce perked up. 

"Yeah, in the fabricators." Peter perked up. "I have fingerprint access, want to go lock him out of his own lab?" 

"Excellent plan," Bruce said. 

They locked Tony out of his workshop until he put on the suit and picked Peter's clothes out of the sixtieth story offset. "I'm sorry," Tony said. 

"I know," Peter said. 

"Do you want some new clothes?" 

"That would be nice," Peter said. 

*


	5. The Windows Have Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth will out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I aten't dead! Just writing....very....slowly.

"Mr. Parker," Jarvis said, waking Peter. "A journalist is in the lobby asking for you. He has told me to inform you that the windows have eyes." 

Peter sat up. That didn't mean anything in particular, but-- "Who?" 

"Ben Urich." 

"Let me meet him in the elevator." Peter rolled out of bed and found some pants. 

Tony sat up from his screen. He was working, as usual. "What's going on?" 

"Ben Urich knows everything that goes on in the city. I think he's going to tell me someone knows who I am," Peter said. 

"There's no keeping some secrets. Anymore, you have to live in the open," Tony said. 

"I'm not you." Peter pulled a shirt over his head. 

Tony accompanied him. Peter was bouncing on his toes when the elevator door slid back.

Urich had fierce eyes behind his thick glasses. He stepped back against the back wall as Peter and Tony joined him in the large elevator car. The elevator door closed and the car didn't move. "So that rumor's true too," he said. "Mazel tov. You don't deserve him, Stark." 

"This is awfully short acquaintance for guff," Tony said. 

"The first time we met you were ten. You sneaked champagne and threw up on my leg. Peter, someone is shopping around proof that you're Spider-Man. JJ saw part of it, called him a nincompoop, and told me to look into it anyway. He says if it's true you're fired. Do you have an official statement?" 

"Proof?" Peter said. The streets had eyes, did someone have a picture? Tony, beside him, crossed his arms. 

"About seven years ago, a boy named Peter Parker, fighting under the name the Human Spider, kicked the ass of the professional wrestler Bonesaw. He has the signup sheet and the ring video. Seriously, kid." Urich looked at him over his glasses. 

Peter ducked his head. That stupid wrestling thing--it was all tangled up in the death of his uncle, and now it was going to get him outed--damn he was dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb. 

"I have no interest in outing you. There are stories that need to be told and stories that don't." Urich's eyes slid to Tony. 

"What's your price for the tip-off?" Tony asked. 

"I don't have a price," Urich said. 

Tony smirked. 

"Tony, don't be an asshole. Ben...I'm grateful," Peter said. Urich really didn't have a price; Urich made his reputation breaking mob wars and government conspiracies. He had a conscience like a bank vault and a spine of reinforced titanium. "You can come to me next time you need a mask story." 

Urich nodded. "I'll expect an interview when you save the world. Until then, keep your mask on." He poked Peter in the forehead. 

"Thanks. Do you want some lunch?" 

"No. I'll go straight back, tell JJ you just laughed. Also that you have a real job now, working for SI. What do you do here, anyway?" 

"Lab assistant to Dr. Banner." 

Urich's eyebrows shot up. "The Hulk? Good luck with that. Stark, get someone on buying that story." 

"I am." Tony's eyes were like steel doors. 

The elevator door opened, letting Peter and Tony back into the penthouse. Peter touched Tony's arm, angling for a hug. His stomach hurt. He thought about his face on every newspaper and he wanted to throw up. 

Tony flicked Peter in the ear. 

"Ow!" He flinched back, his feelings hurt more than his skin. 

"I can't contain this. Three people know; it's out," Tony said. "All I can do is slow it down." He was angry, genuinely angry, as if Peter had done this to spite him. "Wrestling? Under your own name?"

"Urich won't tell." 

"It's out," Tony repeated, his voice cold. "When I was eighteen, I fucked some guy, and he told his bestie, and the bestie told the Post. If three people know, it's out."

Peter's stomach turned over and his skin chilled. "I'm not you!" 

"No! You're Spider-Man! You're a mystery! You're more interesting!" Tony flung out his arms and Peter felt very, very small. 

"You're wrong!" He desperately wanted Tony to be wrong. 

"I'm not wrong," Tony said. "Kid--" 

"I'm not a child!" The twisting sensation turned to stabbing, down from his stomach into his feet and up into his head. 

"I know what the fuck I'm talking about!" 

"Emphasis on fuck." 

Tony stiffened. "Meaning?" 

"Your dick has been on more cameras than my face," Peter said, not even knowing what he was saying, just knowing that Tony was wrong, had to be wrong, couldn't possibly be right when he said Peter's entire world was collapsing around him. 

"Oh." 

"I'm not you, I'm careful, I'm--" Safe? There was an entire train car that knew his face. It was more than three people. 

"I'm not sure where you're going with this, so I'm just going to leave town for a while," Tony said. Utterly cold, utterly still. 

"What?" Peter said. 

But Tony was already gone, his back turned, private jet called. 

*

Tony went to his Malibu house for a week. 

After two days, Tony FedExed him the videotape of the wrestling match with "One of One" written on the label. Peter called him, but Tony never picked up. 

Instead, Peter texted MJ three hundred times, and Tony dared a terrorist to blow him up, duly got himself blown up, and fell off the radar for two terrifying days. Peter got on a plane to go look for him, but there was a text from Tony on his phone when he landed in California.

_Ass unscathed. Pepper is a superhero now._

_Pepper was always a superhero_ , Peter replied. Tony didn't answer. 

The Malibu house was now underwater, so Peter stayed at the Los Angeles penthouse, because of course Tony had a penthouse in every city. Pepper joined him. "Oh my god, I can breathe fire," she said. 

"That's pretty nuts," Peter said. 

"It's nuts. Can I hug you? I can't hug Tony and I need a hug." 

"You can hug me," Peter said, and he hugged her. 

A few minutes later, she sighed. "I feel better." 

"Good." 

"Did you know he made a hundred suits?" 

"No?" 

"Maybe only sixty. I don't know. You give good hugs," Pepper said. 

"You are easy to hug." 

"He's okay. I think he's okay." 

"We had a fight," Peter said. 

"So did we." 

"I didn't mean to have a fight with him." 

"No, me neither," Pepper said. 

"Now I think I need to apologize." 

"I don't." She looked at him. "Tony deserves to be yelled at." 

"Yeah, but I kind of...slut-shamed him," Peter said. 

"Ah."

"That's what Mary Jane said too." 

"She's right. Can you hug me again?" 

"I gotcha," Peter said, hugging her close. 

He flew home alone; Pepper didn't want to get into a pressurized flying can until she got a handle on the fire-breathing. He spent the flight working on his apology. 

As soon as the plane started circling down, the woman sitting next to Peter pulled out his phone. "Holy shit," she muttered. Peter tried not to be a creeper and eavesdrop. 

But a lot of phones were going off around him. He could hear buzzing and beeping all over the plane. The flight attendants looked pissed as they tried to shut it down. 

Then he got off the plane and was met by Clint. "How did you even get through security?" he asked without thinking. 

"I have a badge. Come on. I got to your aunt before the news hit," Clint said. He steered Peter toward an AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY door. 

"What news?" But it was _the_ news, had to be. "I'm out," he whispered. 

"Dude, we're all out. Look--" He stopped in the hallway behind the door, hands on Peter's shoulders. "Nat dumped SHIELD's files on the Internet. All of them. It was a few hours ago, so people are still looking through them, but nothing SHIELD knew is secret any more. You're out. But so is everything else. TMZ just found the vice president's sex tape."

His ears were ringing. "But you got my aunt." 

"She's at your place."

Peter tried to breathe. "Okay. She's safe." 

"She's fine. I'm driving. It's crazy out there," Clint sighed. "SHIELD was Hydra, Fury is dead, Captain America might be dead, and Nat emailed me to stay close to Bruce instead of helping her out. Come on." 

"Steve? Fury?" Nothing made sense. "Steve might be dead?" He didn't know Steve well, but it was hard to dislike him.

"Nat says she has it covered and we need to hang out with Bruce. A whole lot of shit came out about the Hulk." 

"Oh. Yeah, we need to go," Peter said, thinking about the look that crossed Bruce's face sometimes, the way he avoided certain topics. 

Clint took him through the hallway to a basic black SUV, glancing at his phone as he got in. "Rogers is alive. He's in the hospital," he said. 

Peter exhaled. "Fury though. Wow." He'd only met the man once, but Fury was impossible to forget. 

"He recruited me. I was an Army grunt with a carny past and he told me weird was just another word for special. There's nobody else like him. Fuck, I can't believe she didn't call me," Clint muttered.


	6. Raw.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has a bad week.

He wanted to check on his aunt, but there was zero chance of her destroying the building in a bad moment, so he went to Bruce first. Jarvis let Peter into Bruce's apartment immediately. Bruce was sitting on the floor with his hands on his knees and the lights lowered. 

"I'm okay," Bruce said. 

"Good," Peter said. He sat on the floor beside him, arms wrapped around his shins. "I'm not." 

"You will be. You're exposed; you're...naked in front of the world. But there's nothing shameful for them to see," Bruce said, softly. 

"Being shy is just modesty." Peter checked CNN on his phone. The current headline was still "CAPTAIN AMERICA HOSPITALIZED." "Steve is okay," he said. 

"Good. He's another good man. You can do this, Peter." 

Peter glanced back down at his phone and waited for the end of the world. 

*

But the end didn't come. He braced himself for days, checking the news feeds every five minutes, but he read about Tony, most of the time, never himself. He read about the Senate Majority Leader, and the little country of Sokovia, and an up and coming dictator in Latveria, and the economic crisis in Venezuela, and way too much about Tom Cruise's MGH-enhanced running (what), but he never saw his own name.

*

There was just so much out there. He rubbed his eyes.

"Peter, go to bed," Aunt May said. 

"I will. I am, in just a minute." He was skimming through another piece of the raw feed. The initial leak had crashed half the web and then been taken down, but pieces were mirrored all over the world. 

His aunt took his chin and tipped his face up from his computer. "In your own bed, not the couch." 

He couldn't leave her. "I don't know if we're safe yet. There's so much--"

"This has gone on long enough," she said. "Your beau came home yesterday. He took a step toward you, so you need to step toward him."

"We're not fighting." 

"Peter," she sighed. 

"We're not." 

"Then go talk to him before bed. Mr. Jarvis, is Tony busy?" 

"Sir is in his workshop," Jarvis replied. 

"Go see him while I watch my stories." 

He smiled a little. He did not, for the life of him, know why she loved supernatural soap operas so much. It had been "Passions" when he was little. Now it was "The Vampire Diaries." "I know better than to interrupt your stories." 

She swatted him on the shoulder. "Go." 

He went. He couldn't think of a reason she would accept. 

Tony's music was thundering through the walls. The door opened when he approached, though, so he wasn't locked out. 

Tony was welding. Looked like car parts. Dummy rolled up with a spare mask, which Peter took; he could still see Tony's shape through the dark glass, outlined in sparks. 

He loved Tony's shoulders. Tony might not be enhanced, but he was strong enough that Peter could plant his hands on those strong shoulders and lift himself into Tony's arms. It had been a while since Tony held him. 

The sparks died down. Peter waited, blind, listening to his own breath, until he felt a hand on his chest and the welding mask was pushed off. 

Tony's eyes flitted over his face. "You looked better after you were shot by aliens," he said. 

"I felt better, too." His voice cracked a few times. He felt rusty. He felt like he was crusted over with old fear. "I'm sorry," he said. 

"Me too." Tony looked down. 

"You were right, though. Three people knew and it got out. Just, the third person was Nick Fury. But I shouldn't have said those things to you." 

"I've been called worse." 

"Not by me. And I didn't mean it, that's the worst part. I was just saying things to hurt you. I've never been like that before and I hate it." 

"It stung. I'd prefer it if you didn't do that again, ever. But I missed you, button." 

Peter cracked inside, some horrible tension giving way, and he sobbed as he said: "I missed you so badly."

"I'm right here," Tony said, and kissed him, and Peter climbed his shoulders and and wrapped his legs around his waist and held on for a long, long time. 

*


	7. Sex tapes?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has sex tapes. Peter makes decisions. People have opinions.

In the morning, they had sex, and it was like Tony's mouth pulled free a knot inside Peter's stomach. He came shuddering, feeling like he was sinking into the bed. 

Tony sighed and rested his cheek on Peter's chest. He toyed with Peter's nipple with his thumb. 

"Don't tickle me," Peter said. He twisted curls into Tony's hair in return. 

"This is a small-focus sensual massage," Tony said. "I've missed you tangling up my hair. It's been too tidy, Marcia doesn't have a challenge."

Peter tried to tie a knot, but Tony's hair was too wiry. He dozed off a little. 

When he woke up again, he was sure. "Jarvis? Can you set up a meeting with Ben Urich?" he said. 

Tony shifted his head. "Set up a meeting with Shawna first," he said. 

"Yes, sirs." 

"I'm press. I can handle this without your PR person," Peter said. 

Tony snorted. "You sweet summer child." 

"I know what it's like. I spent the past week being afraid of it," Peter said. "I'm going to come out about everything, Iron Boyfriend and all. If that's okay with you." 

"Why would I want the world to know I can land a beautiful, brilliant young superhero?" Tony rolled his eyes. "You can release a sex tape if you want." 

"Do you have sex tapes? Jarvis, does he have sex tapes?" 

"I am forbidden from answering that question," Jarvis responded. 

Peter looked at Tony. "Taking the fifth," Tony said. 

A blush rose in Peter's cheeks. "Can we watch them?" Peter asked. 

"Yes we can," Tony said, rolling them over. 

*

Later, Jarvis woke Peter up with an insistent beeping. "Dr. Banner for Mr. Parker and Captain Rogers for Mr. Stark," he announced. "On screen." 

"Wait--shit!" Peter grabbed blankets over his crotch, realizing only afterwards that he was already covered. 

And that he had pulled the blankets off Tony, leaving him naked. 

"At ease," Steve said, smirking at them. Bruce, on a different screen, covered his eyes. 

"I am, thanks," Tony said. He propped his arms behind his head and crossed his ankles. Peter settled a blanket over Tony's dick and made an apologetic face. 

"I'm glad you two are talking again. We need to discuss the next mission, but it can wait until tomorrow. Have fun. Give him a good one, Pete," Steve said. He smirked as Tony made a show of gasping. 

"When did Captain America get so sassy? Oh, now he's gone. Bruce, are you going to sass me too? Jarvis was sassing me, putting you on screen. Jay, why are you so sassy?" 

"I'm afraid to open my eyes," Bruce said. 

"I am as you made me, sir," Jarvis said.

Peter finally oriented himself. "I was supposed to go to work like an hour ago, wasn't I?" He sat up. 

Tony planted himself in Peter's lap. "He's busy, big guy. Needed for strategic smooching purposes." 

"I'm glad that you made up," Bruce said, both hands over his face. "Peter, you have the day off. Please take the day off. And please take me off screen. I'm happy that you're...pair bonding." 

"I'll explain the bees and the bees when you're older," Tony said as the screen disconnected. He cupped Peter's face. "Now then. Cap gave you an order, Skeeter." 

"He did?" Peter was still exhausted. He felt like he was coming out of a dream, or a nightmare. 

"Told you to give me a good one. You can't ignore an order from the incarnation of the American dream." 

"Honestly, I thought I imagined that." 

Tony threw the covers onto the floor. "Jarvis, privacy. No more sass." A light blinked in response. 

"Why _do_ you surround yourself with jerks?" Peter asked. 

"It's New York," Tony said, and kissed him. 

Tony rode him in the morning light. Beautiful, needy man; busy man, with a finger in every pie; brilliant man, walking Wikipedia. His man, who loved him. He laced his fingers through Peter's and grinned down at him. The arc reactor in his chest sent blue light sparkling off the glass and steel surrounding them. 

*

Peter went to work the next day with a spring in his step. Tony had buttoned up his lab coat and seen him off with a few dozen kisses. His lips were still tingling. 

"Jesus fuck. Go over there," Bruce said as soon as he saw him. 

"Over where?" Peter asked, but Bruce was already putting his noise-cancelling headphones on. 

Natasha swiveled around in Peter's desk chair. She sucked on a frappuccino and eyeballed him. Peter tried to eyeball her back, but she made him nervous, like MJ at her worst. "Hey," Peter said. 

"Hey," Natasha said. She narrowed her eyes. 

"I just had sex with Tony like twelve times," Peter said, hoping the truth would be enough. 

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You're not ready for the press." 

"I'm not meeting the press, I'm meeting Ben," Peter said. 

"And then you're meeting the press. It's fine, I brought reinforcements. We'll get you whipped into shape," Natasha said. 

Another chair swiveled around to face him. "Seriously?" Peter said. 

"Seriously," MJ answered. 

*


	8. Responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: see end notes

After MJ asked him for the hundredth time what he and Tony did in bed, Peter stopped blushing and said "No comment" sternly enough. 

MJ high-fived him when he actually managed to sneer. 

"You could be more deadpan," Natasha said. 

"He was good!" MJ protested. 

"He should treat paparazzi like he treats bums on the street." 

Peter took a ten out of his wallet and offered it to Natasha. Natasha looked at him blankly. "This is how I treat homeless people," Peter said. 

"Keep it together, cinnamon roll," Natasha said. 

"I am! I'm ready." His voice broke in the middle. 

"Throw up before the press conference so you don't throw up in the middle," Natasha said. 

"It's not a press conference. I'm just going to meet Ben Urich. I know Ben. I've known him for years. And it's not until tomorrow!" He sat down anyway. 

Mj sat next to him on the sofa, leaning against his shoulder. Peter sighed. "You could just stop," MJ said. 

"I really can't," Peter said. He didn't go out as much as he used to, but Jarvis let him know when there was a situation, and he would sometimes go out with Tony and fight bad guys together. His job was great, he was really getting into some crazy concepts with gamma containment with Bruce (with the keen, silent hope of someday containing the Hulk), but the thought of just sitting on his butt when someone like the Goblin was flying around...he couldn't do it. And if he was going to do it, he had to do it on the regular, so he stayed sharp. 

The penthouse elevator opened and Tony bounded into the room, looking especially singed. "Sparkles! Give me your foot." 

"Sparkles?" MJ said.

"Uh," Peter said as Tony grabbed his right foot and slipped a bracelet around his ankle. Then Tony took his left foot. "Tony?" 

Tony smacked Peter's thighs happily, then pressed something on his watch, and then Peter was being encased in armor. 

He couldn't breathe. Air hissed against his nose, displays played before his eyes, but his chest felt like it was frozen, and he was strangling, he was trapped-- 

"You won't wear a watch, so I had to reprogram it to home in on the ankles," Tony said. 

He clawed at the helmet. His voice squeaked through his closed throat--"Off, _off_ ," he said, and the seams opened back up and let his head free. 

"No, try it out, it's yours, all the joints are extra-bendy, it's like a Slinky made of titanium--oh," Tony said, finally clocking Peter's expression. "Clap your hands," Tony said, and Peter did, and the armor turned back into ankle bracelets. 

He could finally breathe. He shuddered, backflipped, and stuck himself to the ceiling. He pressed his forehead to the smooth paint. "Baby, we need to talk about presents. And warnings," he said.

"Surprise?" Tony said. There was real chagrin on his face. He must have just finished it; must have come straight up from the lab. 

Peter exhaled. He looked down at Tony; he let go of the ceiling and landed next to him. He head-butted Tony's shoulder and looked down at his ankles. "So it's a portable exoskeleton? With full rotation joints?" 

"Exactly," Tony said. He hugged Peter. Peter let him. 

"I want one," Natasha said. 

"For you, it's two point seven million dollars," Tony said.

"What about with the saved-your-life discount?" 

"Mm, one point three five," Tony said. 

"Done. I'll get you the cash this afternoon, as soon as I'm done with Sparkles," Natasha said. 

"Please don't call me Sparkles," Peter said. 

Tony looked at her, eyes narrowed. "Hang on, who exactly do you work for at the moment? Do you pay taxes? Where is this money coming from? I have questions, missy."

"SHIELD paid me well. And I bought a lot of Stark stock during the crash. You bottomed out at a dollar a share, did you know that?"

"God, don't remind me. And wait, don't sell my stock to pay me, just transfer, Jarvis, get Pepper on the line, she'll do a buyback, I'll cut you a deal, don't tank my stock." He and Natasha crouched over a phone. Peter sat on the couch next to MJ. 

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the couch. 

"Hey," MJ said, and Peter turned his face toward her. "Who's the top, you or Stark?" 

"Get lost, creep," he said automatically, and she giggled and kissed his hair. 

*

"You're never going to get anyone more sympathetic than me," Ben said. "No journalist, anyway. Colbert is a fan. You could come out on his show." 

"I owe you this much," Peter said. "Colbert never ran interference with JJ. OK, turn on the tape recorder."

Ben threw him softballs. Peter told him the truth. It was like peeling off his skin.

*

Peter took a shower after the interview, and, not knowing what else to do with himself, went to work. 

The lights were off in the lab. Bruce was standing by the enormous window. "I've been thinking about safety lately," Bruce said, his back to Peter, looking over the city. "What it means. As a concept and as a reality." 

" _I_ don't know anything about safety," Peter said. He stood next to Bruce and pressed his forehead to the window. 

"No?" 

"Something can always happen," Peter said. He shrugged. "My parents died, and after that, it was like...which way is up? Things can always change." 

"Yeah," Bruce said. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle too, you know. After my father killed my mother." 

Peter let his breath out. "Do you want a hug? I could really use a hug." 

Bruce flinched out of arm's reach immediately. "Sorry," he said, moving back next to Peter. "No." 

"It's okay. Like my therapist said, bodily autonomy is your first right as an independent person." Peter crossed his arms. "I should see if she's still in practice. It's about to be bad."

"You did the press interview?" 

"Yeah." 

"It's about to be horrible," Bruce said. "You probably should. How long has it been since you saw her?" 

"Basically since I became Spider-Man. Um, there was a thing that happened when I was eleven…with this boy who was fourteen...he confessed, which is good because I don't know if I could have testified against him. He went to juvie and I went to therapy, because I knew I liked boys and girls both, and I think my aunt and uncle knew that too, but it was hard to separate liking boys from not liking specifically what happened, and this got really deep really fast, did you notice that?" 

"It tends to happen when I tell people one of my parents murdered the other one. I think, um…" Bruce extended his hand from his side. "I think I can go this far."

Peter held his hand and smiled at him. 

Bruce looked at him, soft-eyed and sad. "I'm sorry that happened to you." 

"People do things they shouldn't do," Peter said simply. "They abuse trust, and they hurt people for their own desires, and they're violent. But most people are good at their cores." 

"Intent is different from consequence, though. And good intentions...are what made me the Hulk." Bruce squeezed his hand once, sharply. "You should go. I'm not good around anyone but myself right now." 

"Okay," Peter said. "Everyone is going to be at the penthouse tonight. The story breaks first thing in the morning. If you want to be with people or avoid people, everyone is going to be up there, and probably drunk. MJ knows a drinking game that Tony hasn't ever played, it's called Bite the Bag--"

"Oh, Jesus. I'll be far, far away from all of that," Bruce said. 

"Okay. Don't answer your phone in the morning. Just turn it off. Even your private number. I'm sorry."

"You're not responsible for everything you're involved in," Bruce said. Peter remembered that, even after he said goodnight, and went upstairs, and wore his lab coat to the party because it made Tony laugh, and he beat the pants off everyone at Bite The Bag by cheating and holding onto the floor with his bare feet, and stayed up all night watching his email inbox go from two messages at dinnertime ("Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Implications of electron capture in Scenario 271" from Bruce and a bot pic from Tony that was too funny to delete) to 11,274 by dawn. Because, as he found out after Jarvis helped him weed out his email addresses and phone messages and he had a very strong espresso drink, Bruce left the tower while they were playing games, so those were the last words Peter had from him. 

He didn't feel responsible, exactly, but he definitely felt involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of canonical sexual abuse of a child in extremely vague terms. Said child is now an adult and has processed the situation, but it's still terrible
> 
> For those who aren't aware of this canon: [it's not movie canon, but it hit me too hard not to include it.](https://blogintomystery.com/2012/05/24/peter-parker-was-molested-as-a-boy-fact-i-got-misty-eyed-reading-this-fact-spider-man-and-power-pack/)


	9. Fourteen Months

Bruce's disappearance meant Peter was out of a job, more or less; he kept Bruce's simulations going, and did his own research, but without Bruce the lab was definitely lacking the spark of genius. Peter ended up in the gym more.

And if he showed off by bench-pressing as much as Captain America, that was between him and Jarvis. 

If he engaged in a little strength-test against Captain America, that was just good fun. If seeing him and Steve arm-wrestling made Tony visibly sweaty, then bonus. 

Tony was starting to look a little glassy, in fact. Steve's friend Sam had his hands over his mouth. "Jesus, kid, be careful!" Sam said.

"I'm good. I stopped a train once," Peter said. He saw Steve narrow his eyes and resettle his feet against the floor. They both had their left arms behind their backs and their elbows touching, but not digging into, the metal weight rack. "And why am I 'kid'?" He caught his breath and shifted Steve's arm a fraction of an inch. "You don't count as ninety-whatever if you slept through most of it. You're really what, twenty-eight?" His shirt squeaked as his biceps strained the material.

"I've been awake for thirty years," Steve said. 

"Okay, so you have something like two years on me, I'm still not a kid, as soon as I finish my dissertation I'm making all of you call me Doctor, especially you, Tony."

"I am so turned on," Tony said. 

Steve started laughing, a silent chest-shake with a grin, which made his arm slip. He said, "I give. You win." 

It was actually pretty difficult to ease off slowly enough that he didn't fling Steve into the wall with the residual force. Peter saw why when he looked down. "Sorry," he told Tony. 

"For what--?" Tony looked down. "You dented the floor. You dented the floor with your feet." 

Peter picked up his foot and shook his shoe, split at the seams, the sole broken, off his foot. Damn. He hated breaking in new shoes. 

"Have my baby," Tony said, jumping into Peter's arms. Peter caught him bridal-style. Tony wrapped a knee over Peter's shoulder. 

"I don't think science is there yet," Peter said. 

"Give me 48 hours. I can make it happen." 

"Okay, for real, if you want kids, we have to adopt from the system, and I'm not ready, I still have to get my PhD. Um, but we can talk about that. I think we should talk to Reed and Sue, they have two and still do the hero thing," Peter said. 

Tony wrinkled his nose. "Richards."

"You introduced us. You shouldn't have done that if you didn't want me to talk to him." Peter looked at Steve. "Right? It's manners."

"Sure," Steve said. "Who is this again?" 

"You haven't met Reed? Jarvis, are they in today?" Peter asked. 

"The Fantastic Four have been in the Negative Zone for the past fourteen months," Jarvis answered. "Their phone message states that they are on a research mission and do not wish to be disturbed." 

Tony and Peter looked at each other. "Fourteen months? Really?" Peter said. 

"That seems like a long time," Tony said. Peter put him down. 

"Honestly, I don't think it's any worse than here," Peter said. "Reed showed me his research. And he has that message thingy that triggers my spider-sense, so he could let me know if they were in trouble."

Tony crossed the fingers on both hands. "Please let Reed disappear off the face of the Earth forever, please, please, I've been a good boy, Santa…" 

"Stop." Peter socked him in the shoulder. "You like Ben. You made him a phone."

"But I HATES Reed, precious. I hates him. Jarvis, look into adoption. Make a presentation. I want a parade of children when baby gets his PhD," Tony said, leaning into Peter. 

"Jarvis, only obey the legal parts of that request," Peter said. 

"Always, sir," Jarvis said. He sounded especially judgmental. 

"A foster kid is forever, not just for Christmas," Sam said. "Hey, I have a bunch of little cousins, want me to bring them by some time, see if you get baby fever? They're cute." 

"They're very cute," Steve confirmed. 

Tony spread his arms and looked at Peter like, good idea? Best idea? 

"PhD first," Peter said. "Which means I have to write my dissertation. Which means I have to finish my research project, and I'm not going to do that with a bunch of kids around the lab." 

Tony held very still for a second. "Robot nanny," he said. "I have all the components." He started for the elevator. 

"Tony! Tony!" Peter caught up to him, held onto him from behind. "Tony." 

"Yes, nougat?"

"No." 

"Yes."

"No." 

"You can't actually stop me," Tony said. 

"My hopes and dreams," Peter whispered, trying to sound sad. 

"It's a great idea, see, for the NICU--" 

"Yes! Build it for the NICU!" Peter hugged him. "Not for here. Promise. Hospitals." 

"Hospitals," Tony said. "Day care facilities." 

"Hey, that's a good idea. A robot that feels like a person for new babies. My sister's baby won't stop fussing unless someone is holding her," Sam said. 

"Soft-touch skin, heartbeat machine that reflects the optimal rhythm for babies," Tony said. "Wetness sensors. What else do babies need? Falcon, lend me a baby, I'll be in my lab," he said, and ran to the elevator with his thinking face on. 

Peter looked at Sam. "You don't have to get him a baby." 

"Are you kidding? Robot nanny," Sam said. He was already dialing his phone. "Sarah! What's up, sis?" 

Steve had his arms crossed and a grin on his face. 

"He's always like this," Peter said. 

"Oh, I know. But you. You had me tied," Steve said. "The Avengers could use you. You're strong, fast, and you can walk up walls." 

"I've never been part of a team," Peter said. 

Steve spread his hands. "You get along with Stark. The rest of us are easy." 

Peter looked down. "I've never had anyone ask me to join...anything before. I was too much of a nerd for even the AV club."

"I don't know what that is, but I can guess," Steve said. "I remember being the little guy that the big guys pushed around. Look, we all got suckered by Hydra. We got off track. The Avengers are about keeping people safe, all the little people in a world full of great big dangers. I know that drives you, just like it drives me and Tony and Clint and even Natasha; it drove Bruce, too, though it took him in a different direction. Our current mission is to locate and retrieve Loki's scepter from Hydra. Once we find out where it is, I have a feeling we'll need all the hands we can get. Are you in?" 

"I'm in," Sam said, holding out his hand. 

"I wasn't talking to you," Steve said. 

"Well, it was a good speech," Peter said. "I'm in too." 

"Seriously, do you write them down ahead of time? Show me your notebook," Sam said.

*


	10. Red, White, and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolves are fictional. There are no werewolves in Latveria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminders: 1) this is Tobey Maguire Spider-Man, not Tom Holland Spider-Man, because I started this series in 2008;  
> 2) I will finish this story barring my untimely death, but it may take another nine years.

So suddenly his job was training for the Avengers, and his hobby was researching for his PhD, and he had zero down time. He slept when he fell into bed with Tony; more than once, that meant he woke up on the pads in the gym. 

It was hard to go outside any more. It was an operation. He was as famous as Tony himself, just for the mystery of him; he knew this, and knew why it was, and knew it would go away if he granted a few more interviews, but he just couldn't. So he didn't. He communicated with his professors over email and videoconference. 

His dissertation subject was the interaction of gamma radiant bodies with electromagnetic systems; in other words, his dissertation was on his search for Bruce and Loki's spear. Applied particle physics. His professors approved his topic and so did Steve. 

Tony thought he should work on the application of AI to world defense. "That's not my field," Peter said. 

"It could be," Tony said. 

"And yet it's not." Peter took Tony's hand. "I don't want to work on Ultron." 

"It would put us both out of a job."

"That's not even a little bit true."

Tony squeezed his hand. "Believe in me." 

"This has nothing to do with believing in you and everything to do with believing that people are petty and unpredictable and can't be controlled," Peter said. 

Tony took a deep breath. "I don't accept that." 

"What part? Because it's all true." 

"That people can't be controlled." 

"Um," Peter said. "How many people have tried to control you, and how many of them have been successful?" 

Tony took a deeper breath. "I'm going for a fly," he said, and he ran away. 

Peter looked out the window as Tony flew over the building. "Look after him, okay, Jarvis?" 

"Always, sir," Jarvis said softly.

*

Finally, finally, finally they triangulated Loki's spear, and they went and got it, in an actual castle in the actual woods on the border of Latveria, where the werewolves lived. 

"The Baron of Latveria is fiction," Natasha said. 

"It's a fictionalized account," Peter said. 

"There's no such things as werewolves," Natasha said. 

"You're sitting in a plane with a were-linebacker," Peter said, pointing at Steve. 

Steve looked back at them. "What?" 

Natasha laughed. "Huh," Clint said. "I'm with Spidey. I believe in werewolves now."

"The hell is a were-linebacker?" Steve asked. 

"Five minutes to landing," Tony said. The team stiffened. Peter put his mask on. 

After that, it was a blur of swinging off Tony's chest, climbing walls, leaping across ceilings, and then hanging onto the spear for dear life while Tony got him out. 

Easy.

*

They put the spear in containment. Tony stayed up all night and made a really pretty model of its structure. 

"Mister Parker, there is something that you should see," Jarvis told Peter.

"Ssh," Peter said, stroking Tony's forehead; Tony had collapsed on the couch with his head in Peter's lap. "In the morning, okay?" 

In the morning, Doctor Doom filed a formal complaint with the United Nations, asking for the spear back, and they found themselves in a diplomatic shitstorm. 

*

"Doctor Doom?" Peter said. 

"Victor. He's a dick," Tony said. 

"You think a lot of people are dicks. A dick like Reed Richards, or a dick like Justin Hammer?" 

"A dick like Loki," Tony said, staring out the window. "Someone who would try to kill a planet." 

Thor rumbled. The rest of the Avengers were sitting around a table, plus Rhodey, representing the U.S. military, and the U.N. representative, a man named Thibault, who seemed very small seated between Steve and Clint. Each of their arms were bigger than his head. 

"He's a problem," Rhodey said. "He's a genius. He was at MIT after Tony and me. Robotics and computer science. After MIT, he went to Oxford and studied history and politics, and then he went home and was elected president. I'm tempted to put air quotes on 'elected.'" 

"He was elected in truth," Thibault said. "He is very popular among the citizens of Latveria." 

Rhodey nodded. "We've been keeping an eye on him because of the sheer amount of materials that we can't quite prove are going into Latveria. I'm talking nuclear material, rare metals. Maybe even people. A lot of things vanish smelling like Latverian cuisine." 

"Latverian is good," Peter said. "My landlord was Latverian." 

"Latverian onion knishes, and the pickled cherries, right?" Rhodey said. 

"Oh my god," Peter agreed, thinking about the sweet and sour tang and the heady scent of Latverian basil. 

Rhodey made a face. "They smuggle uranium in the pickled cherries. Let Tony run a radiation scan." 

"Done," Tony said. "You both are within safe ranges." 

"Thanks," Rhodey said.

"For nuclear power plant workers. Let me pickle your cherries from now on. Victor, what a dickbag," Tony said. 

"The nation of Wakanda has lodged a protest against Latveria for illegal mining operations," Thibault said. "Their proof is minimal." 

"Minimal. That means small?" Thor asked. "That means there is some proof." 

"There is a man named Klaue who makes claims," Thibault said. 

"Words. Not real proof," Natasha said. "Words aren't actionable." 

"Depends on the person saying the words," Steve said. 

"So who is this guy?" Peter asked. 

"Smuggler, arms dealer scum," Clint said. 

Steve leaned forward. "So, exactly the kind of person who would know, but who has no credibility to the general public. I'd like to hear what he has to say."

"He was trying for the spear," Rhodey said. "Intelligence intercepted him." 

"The spear?" Thibault said. "This is Loki's weapon?" 

"That's right," Steve said. 

"Is it safe?" 

"It's safe," Steve said. 

"What is the location?" 

"Classified," Steve said. He frowned. 

"Don't worry, we're looking after it," Tony said. 

Thibault turned to look at Tony. "I am not worried," he said. "I know you will keep it safe for Doom." 

Then he exploded.

*

Peter woke up to noise, shouting, explosions. He rolled to his hands and knees. What was happening? 

He looked up. He saw Natasha crouched over Clint; he saw Steve with shrapnel in his face, shouting into a phone; he saw Rhodey on the floor. Peter staggered to his feet and slumped beside Rhodey, patting his body, looking for blood. 

"Busted arm," Rhodey said. "Help Cap. We're under attack." 

Shit. Peter caught a breath, pushed himself upright, and went to Steve. 

Steve looked at him, his face a mask of blood, his eyes like steel. "Combat ready?" 

Peter tested his arms and his legs and his neck. Everything felt very far away. He wiggled his hand from side to side. 

"We need to go to the spear. They're trying to cut their way inside. The fliers are outside. Rhodey, you have aerial command." 

"Get me vertical," Rhodey said. 

Steve took Rhodey's good arm and hauled him up. Rhodey went ashen as his arm was jarred--it must be broken--but he went to the window. It was a corner window with a huge field of vision. 

"Widow," Steve said. "We can't help him if we're dead." 

"I've got him," Rhodey said. 

Natasha dropped her head. She stood up. Steve took her shoulder--not hauling her along, but sympathetically--and they got to the elevator. 

The spear was on the forty-ninth floor. "You were close," Steve said to Peter. "How bad is it?"

"Concussion. I think I blacked out, how much time did I lose? And, um." Peter touched Steve's jaw and pointed at his face.

"I know. Leave it, we don't have time." 

"If you get punched in the face that could go to the brain," Natasha said. "Take it out." 

She was right. Steve set his jaw and held still. 

As they reached the forty-ninth floor, Peter pulled a four-inch shard of titanium robot hull out of Steve's eye, and he was too concussed even to be grossed out as the blood and vitreous humor ran over his hand. Once the shard was out, Steve doubled over, hands pressed to his face, and breathed heavily. Natasha hit the "stop" button.

"Spidey is wounded. I'll take your bad side," Natasha said. "Don't let Doom get the spear. Ready?" 

Steve inhaled and straightened up. "Ready," he said. 

Because they had to be ready. Peter's head swam as the door opened and they stepped out. 

The lab was dark. Why was it dark? Even if the lights were off, there were windows. 

It was dark because of the mass of robots swarming outside. They were like. Ants. Flying ants. With lasers. Cutting at the window. 

"Do spiders eat ants?" Peter asked. His head hurt. He couldn't even comprehend what he was looking at. 

"Sometimes," Natasha said. 

"Fliers, report," Steve said. 

Jarvis answered. "Building defenses are at 98% and holding. Thor is clearing the bots from the surface and Iron Man and the corps are destroying them. We have identified that the weak points are the propeller and the laser emitters." 

"Propeller?" Natasha asked. 

"The butt!" Tony broke in. "Hit them in the butt! It looks like a propeller and they shatter! Peanut, are you awake?" 

"I'm okay," Peter said. Steve reached over and hit his comms button. "I'm okay," Peter repeated.

"Don't ever get blown up again," Tony said. 

Lightning hit the window of the lab, clearing off the swarm of robots for a few seconds. More clambered in, but it seemed like there were less. 

"Jarvis, you said 98% and holding?" Steve said. 

"Yes, sir, holding. The windows are laser-resistant. I estimate victory in twelve minutes." 

Lightning hit the window again. 

"Eleven minutes," Jarvis said. 

"Clint's up and pissed off," Rhodey said. 

Peter couldn't remember much after that, but it was okay; they won. 

*

Tony curled around him, cradling Peter's head to his chest. "I'm incredibly grossed out by you pulling shrapnel out of Cap's eye, by the way," Tony said. 

"I know. It was sick," Peter said. 

"Does he bleed red, white and blue?" 

"Yes," Peter said. "I mean, there was blood, and vitreous humor is white, and his eyes are blue."

"Gross," Tony said. He held Peter closer, pressing his mouth to Peter's hair. "Please wear the armor," he said. 

Tony's own armor had instantly covered his body when it sensed the explosion. He was unscathed. Even the Doombots hadn't made it through his armor (or his building). 

Peter thought of the armor, and of the feeling of suffocating. "I can't." 

Tony held him closer. 

"I'm sorry," Peter said. "Can you make it fabric? Like my costume? Like a really tough fabric?" 

"Fabric is woven. Three hundred structural failures per square centimeter." 

Peter looked up at him. "Hey. I love you, and I'm okay, and I love you. Okay?" 

Tony kissed him desperately. 

Peter wove his fingers into Tony's hair, feeling it coil around his fingers. He thought about curl patterns. "Repulsors," he said. "Negative space. Additive resistance." 

Tony sat upright, both hands on Peter's chest. His eyes widened. 

"You can protect me with absence as much as presence," Peter said. Tony caught his breath. 

"I love you," Peter said again. This time, Tony heard him.


	11. From the Machine

"Sir," Jarvis said. 

Peter stirred and rolled onto his back. "What is it?" 

"Sir," Jarvis said.

Peter poked Tony. "I'm awake," Tony said. "Something's off." 

"Sir," Jarvis said.

Tony sat up. "Same intonation. Jarvis, troubleshoot yourself."

"Sir," Jarvis said, still in the same intonation. 

"Lab," Peter said. 

But the door wouldn't open. Nothing responded when they touched it, even though it was clearly on; the lights were on, the coffee maker--

The coffee maker was flowing backwards. Slowly, very slowly, looking like a sculpture, but the drops were definitely retreating back into the machine. The clock ticked from 6:01 to 6:00. 

"Rrrrrrrrrrrissssssssssss," Jarvis said. 

Light flared behind them. A portal opened and a man stepped through; Peter raised his arm and webbed him, expecting Doctor Doom.

But the webbing hung in the air once it left Peter's body, and the man was not Doctor Doom; he was a guy with (a bad copy of) Tony's facial hair and a (pretty great, actually) cape. 

"Strange?" Tony said. 

Goatee looked at the clock on the coffee maker. "Four minutes behind. Another failure," he muttered. "Fine, let's get through it." He pointed at Tony and Peter and they both were wearing their armor; he gestured and they were in Latveria, facing Doom and Hulk and the Fantastic Four and a dozen more. Peter and Tony were on the side of--Peter looked around--the rest of the Avengers, Rhodey, Sam, Deadpool, Prince Namor, the X-Men, Magneto, a guy in a really nice cat outfit, some men and women in robes, a tree with a hat on, and a raccoon.

"Hi," Peter said to the raccoon, who was standing next to him. 

The raccoon wrinkled its nose. "Why do you smell like glue?"

"Why do you smell like dumpster?" Tony said, putting his arm around Peter. 

Doom shouted something about revenge. Thor, a bunch of other guys, and the tree yelled and started running. 

"Bruce," Peter said. "Let's rescue Bruce." 

"Okay," Tony said. Peter swung up onto his back, holding on to the armor with his sticky hands. They jetted toward Bruce. Peter used the leverage, swung and kicked the Hulk in the forehead; Hulk blinked, staggered back, and Peter swung around and landed on his shoulder. "Bruce!" he yelled. "Friend! Friends!" 

Hulk looked at him, grabbed him, and slammed him on the ground. Peter didn't black out. He grabbed Hulk's wrist and clung to his arm. 

"Bruce!" Tony hovered before him, mask up. "Remember the beauty of Euler's jewel!" 

Hulk roared at him.

"Think about spherical harmonics! Come on, Bruce, you have my boyfriend, and he hasn't even agreed to marry me yet," Tony said, his voice breaking. "I'm tired." He sounded ragged. 

The Hulk looked at Iron Man. His eyes darkened to brown. 

He sagged to the ground, his giant fist on Peter's chest, but that was fine; he was shrinking, green turning to beige; but then a Doombot shot him in the chest and he turned green again and threw Peter at the robot.

Peter webbed the bot and brought it down, then webbed a second, then a third, and dropped a thermal on them to burn the web, and he leaped onto the Hulk's back as Hulk punched Doombots in the face. "There!" he shouted in Hulk's ear, and pointed him at Doom, and held on as Hulk crossed the battlefield in one leap. 

"BAD!" Hulk yelled, and pounded Doom over the head, smashing him to the ground. He then punched Doom in the face, denting the armor. "NO HOLD HULK. HULK FREE. ME FREE!" 

"Hulk is free!" Peter yelled. "Free like a bunny!" 

"Hulk bunny? HULK HOP!" He hopped across the battlefield, from bot to bot, smashing as he went. 

Peter could see the mind control fading from the combatants. The Hulk stopped at the edge of the woods, panting, looking at the morning sky. The caped man appeared beside them. "If this is the timeline that works, I will kick myself square in the ass as I crack the champagne," he said. "The Hulk needs to crush the glowing blue thing."

"The Tesseract," Peter said. 

"Yes. How did you know that? Never mind. With this glove on his fist, if you can get him--oh," the man said as Peter webbed it to Hulk's fist. Hulk roared. "Godspeed!" he said as Hulk leaped, Peter on his back. 

"Smash blue! Smash blue!" Peter yelled in Hulk's ear. 

"HULK. SMASH. BLUE," the Hulk said, as he smashed his way into the castle, and smashed his way through room after room, and then smashed the blue cube at the center. 

*

***  
**********  
******************************  
*********  
***

*

"Hello. Hello? Hello," the caped man said. "Yes, hello, there you are. I apologize; I didn't realize that iteration was the one that would work. Hello. I am Dr. Stephen Strange, surgeon and magician. It's been a long…year. Maybe two. I need to check. You're fine. Just concussed. Really fine, though, no CTE. I checked." 

Peter swallowed. He was in a hospital bed. His head ached. "Thanks." 

"We're going to be friends in time. You'll invite me to your wedding. Excuse me, I'm feeling particularly unanchored...I'm going to check on Bruce," Strange said, and attempted to walk through the wall beside the bed. He covered his nose and tried the door this time. 

Peter, who was kinda used to things like this, went back to sleep. 

*

The answer to what was going on was…

Peter ended up drawing a diagram. Bruce and the others were mind controlled by Dr. Xavier, who was drugged by Doom, who was powered by the Tesseract, which was an Infinity Stone? That was a thing? And Dr. Strange--there were a lot of doctors in this story, including Dr. Banner, Dr. Xavier, Dr. Dr. Dr. Stark, soon to be Dr. Parker--anyway, he had been chasing the Tesseract through time, because he could do that; and then--"How does Namor come in?" Peter asked. 

"He's nosy," Dr. Strange answered. He was doing some kind of meditation thing over tea. 

"Yeah he is. And Deadpool?"

"In a few time loops, he saved you. And you're aware that he sees through universes--"

"He what now?" 

"You're not aware. He sees through universes. Fascinating person, though far too murderous. But he is aware of the time loops, though he wasn't exactly part of them; he didn't start each day in the same place. That was useful, in the end. He stole the glove."

"Oh," Peter said, pretending he understood. "I guess I should invite him to the wedding." 

"You should. He gives a great present."

"So do you live backwards like Merlin?" Peter asked. 

"Sometimes," Dr. Strange said. 

*

Bruce recovered immediately and went back to work without a word. "Later," he said, when Peter tried to talk. That probably wasn't good. 

So Peter tried again later. "Hey," he said, clinging to the ceiling.

"Hi," Bruce said, not looking at him. 

"So Steve asked me to join the team after you disappeared, and it's actually going pretty well. I can hit...pretty hard."

"Yeah? I'm glad." 

"So you don't have to be the Hulk if you don't want to. You can just be Bruce."

Bruce still didn't look at him. "I can never not be the Hulk. But you don't have to worry, I won't disappear again."

"I wasn't worried about the Hulk! I was worried about _you_. I don't have a lot of friends." 

Bruce flattened his hands on the table. "I don't have any."

"You have at least two. Will you be Tony's best man?" Peter asked. 

Bruce finally looked at him, for a long moment, and then kept looking. "His?" he asked, after a short eternity. 

Peter lowered himself from the ceiling and hugged him from above. "MJ is going to be my best lady. Gender roles are weird." 

"Agreed," Bruce said, hugging him back gently. 

"Do you think foster kids will need someone to be dad and someone to be mom? I can be mom, I just want to know," Peter said. "Never mind, that can wait until after the wedding."

"When will it be?" 

"I have to ask him first."

"He'll say yes," Bruce said.

"And you?"

"I'll say yes," Bruce said. 

"I've missed our TMI conversations," Peter said, and Bruce smiled slightly. 

*

Peter clung to the side of Stark Tower and looked over the city.

"Robbery on Broadway between 41st and 42nd," Jarvis said in his earpiece. "Spider-Man in pursuit," 

Peter swung out. It was a schlep, but he was used to it. The trick would be to stay ahead of the fight.

"Spider-Man is pursuing the Rhino into Times Square. Armored police are responding." 

"Armored police? When did we get armored police?" 

"After the Incident," Jarvis said. 

"How did I get so out of touch?" Peter wondered aloud. 

"I could not answer," Jarvis said. 

"I didn't actually need you to answer." Peter launched off a roof, caught himself, felt the web spinning out of him. 

"My apologies," Jarvis said with no lack of sarcasm.

Peter smiled a little under the mask. "You're Tony's son, you know that?" 

"I'm afraid I do."

Peter spotted the Rhino, lining up and preparing to charge, and he swung down and kicked the Rhino in the head; he webbed the eyes of the mask; Spider-Man webbed the legs; they rolled the Rhino onto his back like a turtle. "All yours!" Peter told the cops. 

Peter looked at Spider-Man, mask to mask. "We need to talk," he said, and he swung up over the Coca-Cola sign, over the roofs, and up, climbing a flagpole, clinging just below the flag. 

Spider-Man met him there. "Hi," Peter said. 

"Hi," Spider-Man said. 

"So I caught up on the news after, you know, Doom," Peter said. "And I found out that Spider-Man went away for a while and then came back. Only now he can turn invisible?" 

"Um. Yeah," Spider-Man said. 

"That's neat."

"It is pretty neat." 

"I'm going to marry Tony and adopt some kids," Peter said. "Um, you know who I am, right?" 

"Duh," Spider-Man said. He pointed to a news crawl in Times Square showing Peter's face alongside a shot of the Rhino.

"I hate that picture," Peter muttered. "Ugh. Anyway, um, kids, and Avengers, and I just wanted to say, I'm glad there's still a Spider-Man." He took his mask off and handed it to Spider-Man, who took it, looking stunned through his own mask. "There's a communicator inside. In case you need help. We're here."

Spider-Man looked at him, then slid off his mask. Underneath, he was a terribly young black kid who met Peter's eyes without hesitation. "My neighborhood needed a Spider-Man. You weren't there." 

"No," Peter said. 

"So I just did it."

"I think I'm going to be Iron Spider," Peter said. "I haven't decided. Uh, Daredevil will probably called you Spider-Boy, he called me that until I started dating Tony, uh, he really hates it if you stand on a wall over his head so he has to look up. And if you go near the beach, Prince Namor will come up and hang out, like, he can smell you or something, it's weird." 

"Yeah, that already happened," Spider-Man said. 

"Does he look like Jet Li to you? He does to me," Peter said, "Oh, jeez, has Deadpool showed up?" 

"Yeah, but he backed off when I talked to him. He said my word bubble is the wrong shape? Dude is crazy." 

"Really crazy, and you can't trust him not to kill people. But you can probably trust him not to kill you, and sometimes you need that," Peter said. "He saved my life six times in an alternate timeline." 

"An alternate timeline?" 

"Doctor Doom."

Spider-Man nodded. 

"Doctor Doom will definitely try to kill you if he sees you. So will the Vulture and Bullseye and Doctor Octopus. The Kingpin is probably okay. Frank--the Punisher?--he won't hurt you unless you try to stop him from killing someone. So, um, you can call me whenever," Peter said. "And if you see Electro, definitely call. That's how I met Tony so he's, like, sentimental."

"Okay. Thanks," Spider-Man said. His eyes said for a second _I don't know what I'm doing_ but then _I totally know what I'm doing_ and then he started to put Peter's mask on, but paused. "Um, can I wash this?" 

"Oh! Yeah, that has to be gross, you just hand wash it and air dry, the electronics are all enclosed. You might want to--yeah, definitely wash it. Sorry." 

"It's cool," Spider-Man said, putting his own mask back on. "Thank you. For real."

"Sure," Peter said, watching him take off. "No problem, Spider-Man." 

Because. 

He wasn't anyone's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man any more. He wasn't anyone's Spider-Man at all. And it was okay. 

*

Peter swung back to Stark Tower, climbed up the side and into the window Jarvis opened for him. 

He found Tony in the workshop, draped in fabric. "Honey! I'm home," Peter called out. 

"New suit material. Bulletproof. Rhodey is begging me to let the military have it, should I let them?"

Peter leaned in and kissed him. He stroked the fabric. It felt weird, like it wasn't entirely there, or like it was pushing him away. "Do bullets bounce or just drop?"

"The weave distributes force, so bullets go...plep," Tony said, narrowing his eyes and thinking. "Yeah. Definitely plep."

"Distributed force? Do you think that would help with TBI? Traumatic brain injury--"

"More of a problem currently than wounds. Inside the helmets," Tony said. "Jarvis, make a model."

"Yes, sir." But the model Jarvis displayed wasn't a soldier's helmet; it was a ring, a wedding ring, and Tony clearly had been playing with inscriptions for the inside. 

Peter leaned against Tony. "Jarvis, I'm pretty sure that was supposed to be a surprise."

"Excuse me. I must have become confused. Is this correct?" Jarvis projected a pair of tuxedos in red and black.

"My colors?" Peter said. 

"Well, the rings are gold. And a gold cummerbund, not a good look, believe me, I've tried."

"Hey," Peter said. He slipped to one knee. "Want to buy me a building?" 

"I have wanted to buy you a building since the day I met you, you little scamp," Tony said. He bent over Peter's hands and kissed his knuckles. 

"Aunt May needs a place to live. She's started knitting and her yarn stash is, like, she needs a building, something with a view, and services, okay?" Peter met Tony's mouth and straightened up in the kiss. "Small wedding, big reception?" 

"I can do that."

"And I just handed over official Spider-Man duties to that kid who's been doing it anyway, so I need a new suit with a new name and logo--"

"I LOVE you," Tony said fervently, lifting Peter off his feet and spinning him around. "Please be Iron Spider, please be Iron Spider--"

"Maybe."

"I'm going to make you extra legs."

"Arms."

"Definitely legs, like Odin's horse, did you see that, when he came to pick up the spear?"

"I don't want extra legs!" 

"Two extra legs and two extra arms and six extra eyes," Tony said, laughing, until Peter bit his lower lip hard enough that he couldn't speak any more; then they leaned into each other, sharing a long kiss, Tony's new fabric draped over Peter's shoulder. Tony would make him a new suit, one that was flashy and fancy, one that was him regardless, one that didn't freak him out or make him feel confined, and Tony would make him a ring that secretly said Peter's face made him happy; and Peter would say he was Tony's and Tony was his, and that Tony had a family. 

All these things would definitely happen. Peter might or might not get his PhD, they might or might not win the diplomatic shitstorm Doom was still stirring up, Namor might or might not throw a hissy fit and sweep the city into the sea, but Peter was one hundred percent sure of where he was when he was in Tony's arms, and that was, you know, it was nice. 

END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT
> 
> I SAID I WOULD AND I DID IT. I hope you enjoyed it. I love you like Tony loves vibranium.


End file.
